


Memory fic

by Jackpotgirl1



Series: Pieces of us [1]
Category: Breddy, Twosetviolin
Genre: Angst, Hurt No Comfort, M/M, Marriage, Married Life, Memory Loss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-22
Updated: 2020-03-22
Packaged: 2021-03-01 03:08:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23258167
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jackpotgirl1/pseuds/Jackpotgirl1
Summary: Eddy's forgetfulness.It started as a small thing, that later on became a big issue.
Relationships: Eddy Chen/Brett Yang
Series: Pieces of us [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1672330
Comments: 7
Kudos: 46





	Memory fic

**Author's Note:**

> Eyy peeps, jackpot here! This prompt was from a group chat I'm in... I think you guys will see a lot more of this theme from other breddy fanfiction writers, so... Here's my take on it.
> 
> Enjoy? ??
> 
> -
> 
> Original work from my wattpad.

It started as a small thing, that later on became a big issue.

\---

Fingers hitting the keys continuously clicked. The mess of notebook, pen, papers, and whatnots scattered across the table of their "office." Brett typed on his web browser's search bar to find nice pictures of "vehicles" while Eddy waited for the previous batch of pictures to be printed out. They were preparing for another episode of violin charades.

Brett laid out the pictures he got on the word processor, ready to print the next set until he felt Eddy tugged on his shirt. He turned to his partner.

"Hey, you know where the..." Eddy gestured with two fingers, splitting and closing them repeatedly, "umm... went?"

"Scissors?" Brett looked around and found the item under a stack of papers. Handing him the item, "here."

"Thanks, bro," Eddy smiled.

\---

On the cupboards above the kitchen counter, below the sink and even inside the dishwasher, none. It's not there.

Eddy had been looking for his favorite coffee mug for minutes now. The blue large-sized mug. So large that, if you fill it with water, the single sachet of instant coffee would taste bland. So when the said mug will be in use, only three-fourths full.

Even uniquely shaped, his calloused fingers curl perfectly to the handle as if the item was custom-made for him. His large palm fits perfectly with the side of the mug. Warmed it entirely as his skin feels the embossed patterns of leaves and oranges.

The green mug had a partner. The same-sized blue one with a design of apples. And was owned by Brett.

Brett gave it to him as a gift for their "annual coffee lovers day." The thought always made Eddy's heart bloom. Brett doesn't have to invent "holidays" just to give him gifts. He remembered saying that to him, but he always appreciates the gesture. And kept the items as his treasure.

He sighed. As the last of places he thought he'd find his green mug was searched and still end up empty-handed.

So he made his coffee on the blue mug instead.

From the kitchen, with a freshly made coffee in hand, Eddy went to the living room.

About to sit down on the sofa when he noticed a still-hot half-finished cup on the coffee table. On the green cup, he was looking for.

\---

The marriage of sounds of their violins filled the room. Brett's rich, warm notes embraced Eddy's bright and chirping sound. Never overpowered the other, always supported each other.

Even with their eyes closed, the music flowed perfectly. As if the world were made entirely with music, they delved in deep. The sea of melody drowned them, but they were breathing perfectly. Along the accentuated waves, their bows danced, glided, and jumped across the strings. They created the vast expanse of notes, unique to the piece, their taste, to their playing.

They were different. One to main. One to compliment. As the sheet told, but they took turns in the spotlight, to share. For one would be lonely without the other.

Even without words, they promised, to be together.

The beat changed, the signature changed, and they still continued. The chaotic was yet gentle of their parts. The violent and passionate of their playing. The heat of their bodies and cool of the room. Everything seemed to clash, but through each other's eyes, as they stared at one another, they knew--

Eddy's music abruptly stopped. Then so do Brett.

Brett's face furrowed at the sight of Eddy's knotted brows. The cold sweat that ran through his forehead to his jaw, the jagged of his partner's breathing and the frozen muscles. Eddy's eyes stared at nothing but were searching for something.

He believed Eddy knew the piece by heart. Same as him, he memorized the piece to eliminate the inconvenience of reading the sheet. Brett swallowed his gut feels and said, "Let's take a break, yeah?"

They stay seated in front of their music stands. Heavy air hung around, unlike the bright and cheerful when they played before. One could hear their own heartbeat at space's quiet.

"If you are having difficulty at anything, you can ask me for help, Eddy," Brett said as he places a hand on Eddy's shoulder.

With eyes unsure and scared, he looked up to meet Brett's dark orbs and said, "I think," Eddy held on tight to the soft hand on his shoulder, "my forgetfulness' getting worse..."

===

"Not now, ma... Please..."

Eddy heard Brett plead, to his mother, through the phone. Her voice was loud, even though it wasn't on speakerphone. This wasn't the first time he caught on Brett arguing with his mom. The matter seemed important because she kept on pressing it, and Brett always too stubborn to oblige.

He tried to ask Brett about it, but every time he did, the shorter avoided to answer.

\---

The sofa creaked as Eddy rose. Fast. He threw his legs to the floor to stand up, from his previous lying down position. The sudden gush of blood down from his head made him feeling lightweight, almost dizzy. Throw pillows, his notebook and pen that slid down to the floor, as his bare feet touched the cold white tiles of the living room, echoed.

There's something at the back of his mind he had to do. Urgent. The writings on the notebook reminded him. So with heavy and quick steps, he heads on to the main door.

On the way there he picked up his wallet and keys from the coffee table along the way, put them all in his jeans' pocket. The keys dangled and jingled. He ran his hand through his hair in an attempt to fix them as he walked. The hand, the same as his feet, rushed.

_He had to be quick, swift._

The keys made a ruckus of sounds as he strides through the hallway, passing by the entryway that led to the kitchen.

_He had to do it now, or else._

His dominant hand reached for the doorknob. Turned it fast and swung the door open. Wind and heat from the outside greeted him. The warm air swept through his hair, touched his face, danced with his clothes. Eddy was about to step out when-

"Where're you going, Eddy?"

Eddy turned back to the voice's direction. There, he saw Brett emerged out of the kitchen, donned in his "Practice" shirt and shorts, as he wiped his hands with a kitchen towel. Then nonchalantly threw the used item to the trash bin nearby.

"I- have to... to..." Eddy's eyes scanned Brett's features, too look for the answer. An answer he should have known. As the glasses-clad man moved closer, he gulped down. He didn't know why, but Eddy seemed to be like a deer caught in the headlights. Eddy stared at the shorter man as he, slowly, closed the gap between them. The sight blinded and froze him in place.

Brett took a deep breath. Closed his eyes and loosened the fist he didn't know he tightened until it hurt his hand. That look Eddy was giving... He knew it too well. So, like the deer, he waited for the hurt, and soon... the null.

"I-I..." The taller stammered, "I don't know..."

\---

He hated being in the hospital, but he had to, for Eddy. Hospital visits always meant bad news for Brett. Nothing good came out of it from his previous experiences.

And as he thought, it was.

The whole car ride back home was quiet. They both were devastated by the news, but no one uttered a single word. No crying, no sad, no nothing.

It was when Eddy rushed into the house the moment Brett parked the car in the garage. He ran after him, tried to call out to him. Brett was worried about what Eddy would do.

The room almost devoid of light had the blinds full covered and closed. The scent of sex from the night before still hung on the air. And the whirlwind of clothes, sheets, and covers was still there.

Brett stood near the door frame, as he watched Eddy. Hands shook at what the taller was doing, but he did nothing to stop him. Instead, he leaned on to the varnished wood for support, and quietly let Eddy let out his frustrations, stress, and all. As he, himself, slowly slid down to eventually sit on the cold hard floor and stared blankly at Eddy.

Eddy frantically looked for something. Literally flipped the drawers and cabinets. Clothes, pillows, and other items scattered across the floor, the bed, and the couch. He wasn't careful when he slammed the powder table's drawer, he didn't mind the mirror that may fall out.

He did the same with the nightstand, but the only picture frame, of them, on top fell. To the floor, glass broken and scattered. Again he didn't mind.

His vision blurred with tears as he thought that he couldn't find what was he looking for. Maybe because he forgot where he placed it. Maybe because he forgot what it was.

Eddy bit his lip as salty tears cascaded down his cheeks. He started to lose hope of ever finding it.

At last, he found it. Under the mattress of their shared bed.

With trembling hands, Eddy lifted the item. It was a notebook, with a pen attached. One he used to write various skit ideas, to-do list, and anything in general that he had to remind himself of.

This time the things he'd write were the most important. His hand shook as he recited every detail he wrote on the paper.

"My name's Eddy," he started, "Married to Brett Yang for seven years now." He gulped down to somehow ease the shakiness of his voice, "We- we've known each other since teenagers, and I loved him since then."

Brett walked to Eddy, and his hands wrapped around the taller from behind. Despite the tears, "Me too, since then." His grasp to Eddy tightened. "We both pursued music, the violin. We had a Youtube channel called twoset violin."

Tears and ink mixed on the paper as Eddy wrote. Everything they had. Everything they become.

"I'll never get tired of reminding you of who you are, who am I, what we are, and what we've been through." The shaking of Eddy's body resonated through Brett. He felt his lover's tears dropped to his arms that encircled him. He closed his eyes, and kissed the part of Eddy's clothed back he could reach, "I promise."

\---

Eddy made two cups of coffee. One for him and one for Brett. He laid down the matching cups on the coffee table.

He mused to why Brett was taking so long in the shower. He waited, sipping his own coffee from his favorite green mug. While he read stories from his notebook.

The thick notebook was clearly beaten from being read every day. Yet it was taken good care of. It had a mix of handwriting, those that forced to look presentable despite the poor penmanship. It had mini drawings and caricatures on the sides of slightly crumpled pages, the writers may be sidetracked or to illustrate a point. Either way, they were cute.

Some pages had tear stains on them. Eddy ran a hand to the slightly smudged letters. Felt the crumples of the paper under his fingertips as he reminisces of whose tears those were.

Eddy snapped out of his thoughts at the sound of the door opening. He turned to look, it was his sister. On her way upstairs, as he sipped his coffee and put it back on the table, he asked her to call Brett from the bathroom.

Instead of doing so, she moved closer to Eddy. She noticed the blue cup on the coffee table. She gulped down to moisten her suddenly dried throat, then turned to Eddy. "Brett's..." She bit her lip, "not with us anymore." With tears filling up her eyes and voice careful, "Since last year... Leukemia, right?"

Eddy was about to say something but nothing came out. Heartbroken, he cried too. Hearing for the first time that his husband was dead for a year now. It doesn't make sense but... "Did I--" tears fell from his eyes to his cheeks,

"Did I forget again?"


End file.
